to the failing of men's knees beneath them
by oh sweet lily beans
Summary: Chiron never taught Achilles about love, about vengeance, about forgiveness. Achilles had to learn about those on his own. All it took was one war, one loss, to discover that the three were all connected. -- Achilles/Patroclus; rated for themes.
1. Chapter 1

**I.**

The first time Achilles sees Patroclus is from behind his father's knees, clinging to his robes and hearing the winds breathe the word in the air (he is a _murderer_): Achilles is afraid of him. He is larger than Achilles, and looks down at the towheaded boy glancing up at him with wide eyes, smiles.

Achilles is still afraid of him, but now he knows that he is human, that he is only a boy just like him.

--

They must share a bed, and Achilles cannot sleep because of it. He is not used to someone in his bed, it is all warmth and he can't flail his limbs out like the sun with his rays, because they will connect with something - someone. Achilles turns over, and his knee pokes out into Patroclus's shins, brown eyes fly open. "Child!" he exclaims, "stop your stupid tossing and turning. I cannot sleep for it." Achilles bites back: "Or perhaps you cannot sleep because you killed a boy," and it takes one second of flashing eyes before Patroclus has his hand cupped over his throat, the blond beneath him. "You shall not speak of that, boy," he spits, "your father is taking us in for we have fled, for we are _wanted_ men. Perhaps it is best for you not to question your father's decisions; remember who you now harbor." It is an empty threat, Achilles can tell because of the way his grip loosens on his throat and his eyes begin to soften. Instead of saying anything back - not just yet - he delicately pushes Patroclus's hand off his throat and, catching a breath, presses his lips to the other boy's, hoping to silence him.

(It works.)

**II.**

They are taking a break from schooling, bathing in a creek nearby. Patroclus is keeping away from him, but that does not keep Achilles from trying to talk to him. He comes up behind the boy and splashes him, and when Patroclus turns around Achilles still has a smile on his face. Patroclus's eyes run over the younger boy's body (Achilles is closer to the shore, the shallow water leaves more skin exposed to the air and the sun and lustful gazes), and even while Achilles is still smiling with youthful joy, his eyes widen as he notices Patroclus's cock thickening, and Patroclus's mouth drops open in embarrassment as he tries to hide it.

"Oh, uh, Achilles," he sounds a little breathless, "I think you should get back to Chiron, I'll be there in a moment."

Achilles shakes his head, only stands there looking at Patroclus's thighs just underneath the water, they look white and contrast against his growing erection.

Achilles moves closer, knows what he must do, and grabs Patroclus's arm. "I think I rather like it here, Patroclus," he says, and reaches up to kiss him roughly.

**III.**

They don't have to share a bed anymore - they haven't had to for years - but every once in a while Patroclus comes to his room, or maybe Achilles goes to his, but they always do the same thing. Achilles doesn't mind sleeping next to someone these days, and in fact he likes it, as long as it is Patroclus next to him. They've never done anything more than kissing or things that Achilles can do on his own (but they feel much better when he does them _with_ someone), so when Patroclus finally asks him one night if Achilles would let Patroclus penetrate him, it is slightly surprising - but Achilles nods nonetheless, because it is exactly what he has wanted for so long.

They are awkward, and Patroclus whispers apologies far too often ("Shut up, you're being stupid. It's alright, don't be sorry, and don't - _fuck_ - don't _stop_.") but Achilles realizes - with a bit of a laugh - that Patroclus has _thought this over_, he has been thinking what to do and perhaps even practicing, if that's even possible. Possibly because of this - even more than the words he whispers into Achilles's ear afterward - Achilles realizes that Patroclus loves him.

(He returns the favor.)

**IV.**

Achilles had loved Briseis, and so he curses Agamemnon. He doesn't seek Patroclus to soothe his loss, he seeks Patroclus because his bed had been cold, even with Briseis, and Patroclus is and always has been the fire to light it. Achilles wants Patroclus in his tent - even if he can't always have him - in his room simply to know he is there, to have someone to fill his gaze; he also doesn't want him to enter war without Achilles's knowledge. Well, it is complicated, really; but the only thing he says to Patroclus after he has set up a bed in the room and opposite Achilles's own, is "I am glad you are here."

Whatever fickle thoughts Achilles has had, that one is always true.

**V.**

Once he is done with Diomede, she falls asleep next to him. He hears Patroclus shudder and Iphis sigh, and feels a body pressed hard against his, all fire. He turns over to face him, puts his fingers out to trace Patroclus's chapped lips. It is different now, with war and with women like gardens that need fertilizing. He tells Patroclus this. "But I still love you," Patroclus whispers back, "women and war cannot change that."

Achilles knows it is a lie, knows that the world is changing, that a woman has already brought them to war, that another has already gotten between the two of them, knows that war will finally end them. But he doesn't say anything, only kisses Patroclus's shoulder, pressing his head against Patroclus's chest with his arm at the nape of his neck as Diomede falls back against him.

**VI.**

Patroclus cannot help the fire in his bones, the need for blood and battle. Achilles is his friend, his lover, but Patroclus only wants to join the Achaeans in the fray. When Achilles calls him out of the tent and asks him to ask after Machaon, he obeys, observing the battle as he walks. His hands shake slightly as he heals Eurypylus's wound, blood stains his hands, and it only makes it worse (soon, he can hardly look at the wound or it makes him long for his own scars of war).

"What is wrong, Patroclus?"

"I - I must go, Eurypylus. I know you wish me to stay here but I must leave; perhaps I can persuade Achilles to go into battle, or at least to allow me to go. Fare well, friend," he says, voice slightly shaky, and he washes his hands in haste and leaves the tent, tears of wrath and bloodlust and anger (or love) pouring out as soon as he does.

Eurypylus can only lean back on his arms and watch him. It is curious.

**VII.**

Achilles helps Patroclus clasp on his armor, knows every groove, every bend (both of the armor and of the body). He calls the Myrmidons to the tent, and they stand outside as he prays to Jove. Patroclus stands there, still, looking at him with a gleam in his eye of defiance and tinted with his thirst for battle. Once Achilles is done, he looks at his comrade for a moment with lips still wet with wine, and finally going to him, touches his cheek, and falls next to him, arms wrapped around his legs. Patroclus looks at him in alarm as Achilles places wet kisses that leave red stains on the backs of his knees, pushes the hem of his shirt up with the fingers of a dying man. Patroclus finally realizes, finally knows that this can be it; he puts his hand in Achille's hair, tangles the blond locks in his own fingers. Achilles rises, kissing his thighs where the skin has been exposed by nimble fingers, grabbing Patroclus's hand and kissing it as he levels his face with his own.

"Please," Achilles says when he puts his palm on Patroclus's cheek, thumb moving slowly in regret, "return soon."

Patroclus brushes his lips against Achilles's, but he will not promise anything; he cannot promise anything.

**VIII.**

He knows it when he sees Antilochus running to him, weeping; he had feared it, and now he has proof in the face of one of his greatest friends. When Antilochus finally tells Achilles, all he can hear is the ringing in his ears and the broken, nearly hysterical sobs of Antilochus, can only feel the younger man's strong grip on his wrists, straining to keep Achilles's hands from reaching for his knife, his throat, anything (even if Achilles doesn't realize he's reaching for them himself); he feels Antilochus's lips on the top of his head, mouthing wordless prayers, tears falling atop his head. Patroclus is dead.

**IX.**

He is a child again when he sees the body; he doesn't understand that the body lying there will never spring up again in sudden awakening, never smile at him with the morning sun behind his head like an eclipse. It was easier to understand when he didn't _have_ to.

When he sees his mother covering the wounds with ambrosia and nectar, he wonders why she couldn't have done this before, _why can't she have let Patroclus drink ambrosia and nectar before battle?_

(Then he thinks maybe, if he himself loved Patroclus and was only mortal, perhaps Patroclus was meant to be as well - thinks he wasn't meant to live long without Patroclus, nor Patroclus without him.)

**X.**

Achilles sets about washing his friend's body, rubbing a rag over the skin he's memorized with his eyes, his hands, his lips. He does it longingly, admiringly, remembering - though later he feels shame for it. Patroclus was his lover, always, but now he is gone and Achilles must honor the dead. Even after he washes his body, he presses his face, his hands, to its planes and angles, dirtying them again, so he must keep from acting as though Patroclus can feel his care even in death. He can feel the men looking at him with sadness in their eyes, but he feels it isn't only because Patroclus is dead: somehow he feels it is because they can feel his pain as if it is blood watering the earth, splattering on their clothing.

**XI.**

He feels it is only right to let Patroclus burn with an imprint of Achilles's hand on his chest in Hector's blood, an imprint of his lover's hand in his murderer's blood - almost as if to prove to Patroclus that Hector is finally gone, the threat finally eliminated. He leaves the blood on himself, won't wash it off until the pyre is quenched. As he eats, maybe some of the animal blood mixes with Hector's, maybe he's a bit vengeful, maybe he licks the blood off his fingers with a thirsty tongue - but it makes no difference whether it is animal blood or Hector's, because it all tastes the same. He catches Menelaus looking at him in fear, disgust, but as soon as his gaze is caught the son of Atreus looks away.

(And he silently forgives Achilles, for he knows something of longing, something of vengeance.)

**XII.**

When he thinks of what the Trojans had done to Patroclus, to his body, he remembers Hector and happens to glimpse his heels so haphazardly thrown down to the ground of his tent in his death. When Priam comes to his tent to fetch his son at last, Achilles has just stood up from eating, and he thinks of Hector's bloody heels and Patroclus's burnt body, remembers that they've both suffered losses, and his knees fail him.

(And Priam catches him in his arms.)


	2. sequel of sorts: with your blood

he has to impress the young boy, because someday his life could depend upon it.

--

(irony, he says.)

--

"i love --"

patroclus bites achilles wherever he can reach him to shut him up. if he hears it he may die.

(young boy so foolish and quick with words. meaningless things.)

--

"i love you."

(patroclus is caught completely off-guard. he thinks, he thinks maybe it's true, if he can't stop it. and mirrors the words in achilles' ear.)

--

(young boy so foolish and quick to repeat.)

--

and they are at war, and patroclus puts his body, a shield, in front of achilles's own. maybe he can save someone amazing, if he can't keep all _these_ men from dying, he thinks, looking at the blood-stained beaches. maybe he can finally, finally show achilles he is worth it, worth the war and his love and _all_ of it.

(must needs be fair --)

--

patroclus knows why he is there, knows that achilles must know just _has_ to know that patroclus won't go. achilles ties thin strings to his wrists like always. they snap when he enters battle and achilles weeps at their weakness, and later perhaps at something else delicate and easily broken, lost.

(such as: patroclus's name on his tongue, broken, broken.)

--

and lost, lost, whenever achilles searches for him in the shadows and throws himself in front of arrows.

(young boy so foolish. so fair.)

**note:** lack of capitalization done on purpose, or perhaps i was only lazy. some of these lines and the title are stolen from shakespeare's _troilus and cressida_, because they are some of my favorite lines ever. _helen must needs be fair/when with your blood you daily paint her thus._ i believe it is in the first act, perhaps the first scene.


End file.
